Life Is a Squiggly Line: Start Embracing Imperfection and Stop Settling for Safe

By Fallon Ukpe

We have been programmed to believe that the line of life is a perfect, straight trajectory up and to the right, but that's simply not how life works. And now, we have a problem, because perfect is impossible and life isn't a straight line—it's a squiggly line.

Yet we continue to strive for something that is unattainable, unfulfilling, and unnecessary. The pursuit of perfection is leaving us overworked and underwhelmed with the trajectory of our lives. If that's where you find yourself, there is good news: you have a choice.

You can choose to reject the myth of perfection and embrace imperfection. In Life is a Squiggly Line, Fallon Ukpe shows you how to shift your focus and energy away from a list of checkbox milestones and equips you to handle life's ups, downs, and transitions. If you're ready to create a life of meaningful success and achievement, this book shows you how.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9781544505558

Book preview

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Copyright © 2019 Fallon Ukpe

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-5445-0555-8

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To God—

Thank you for all that I am, all that I have, and all that I give.

Thank you for filling me with a purpose and a desire to live a life in service of others.

To Mom, Dad, and Shelter—

Thank you for loving me and supporting me always, no matter what.

I could not have asked for a better family.

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Contents

Introduction

Part One: Embracing Imperfection

1. The Myth of Perfection

2. Choosing the Squiggly Line

3. Embrace Your Squiggly Line

Part Two: Stop Settling for Safe

1. Stop Asking for Permission (or Seeking Validation) That You Don’t Need

2. Stop Closing Doors Prematurely

3. Stop Competing and Comparing

4. Stop Waiting for Perfect Conditions

5. Stop Letting Fear Win

6. Stop Limiting Yourself

Conclusion

Appendix

Acknowledgments

About the Author

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Introduction

How It All Started

I was wrestling with what to say. I had nearly four months to plan for this, but still, I had nothing prepared. At the start of the year, I accepted an invitation as a guest speaker at an event for a group of talented and brilliant undergraduate women. Now, summer had arrived, the event was the next day, and I still wasn’t even close to being ready.

I had a few tidbits and pieces of advice that I thought I could share. But there was nothing concrete—no outline, no plan, no written remarks. I was struggling to find the right words, the right message. I wanted to be the perfect balance of funny and inspiring, wise yet approachable, accomplished but still relatable. And somehow, the harder I thought about it and pushed myself to craft the perfect speech with just the right delivery, the more elusive it became.

So, I decided to sleep on it. The event wasn’t until tomorrow morning, so surely a night’s rest would be helpful. And maybe by thinking about it just before bed, I would somehow wake up with a flash of inspiration. I turned off the lights and quickly fell asleep. All too soon, I heard the sound of my alarm. I turned to the side to silence it, and I saw the morning light shining in the windows. I looked back to check the time. I had an hour before I needed to start getting ready. I scanned my brain for an answer to my dilemma. But nothing. I panicked (briefly!) then sprang into action.

I shot out of bed and went down to my office. I had to figure it out. I took a few clean sheets of paper out of the printer and picked up my favorite pen. I began to just let my mind roam while holding my hand above the paper. It was my full-on, clean-sheet brainstorming mode. I scribbled a few words and phrases, yet still, nothing hit me.

I looked up at the ceiling and then back down at my desk. I glanced to the left and saw some notes partially hidden under a few folders. I had just written a note to a family friend’s daughter who was graduating from college. I carefully slid the note out from the bottom of the pile and moved it to the center of my desk. I scanned the paper and a small drawing that I had added in the middle of her letter caught my eye. Ha, there it was. That drawing was my speech. But I had to figure out a few more things, get dressed, and drive to the event.

I was running short on time. I quickly got ready and rushed to the car. I exited my driveway and made a few turns heading toward the 400 southbound highway. I drove in silence. I was trying to work through those last loose ends of the speech. As I merged onto the freeway, my brain was abuzz as different thoughts and ideas trickled in. Yet, I felt an odd sense of calm. My gaze focused on the road ahead as I whizzed past skyscrapers, overpasses, and exit signs.

And then—suddenly—it came to me. That was it! The last few pieces I needed to make it all work lit up my brain like quick flashes. I felt a sense of relief and excitement. I exited the freeway and began looking for street parking. Mentally, I ran through the speech one more time. As I turned left onto Ellis Street and parked at the meter, my phone buzzed. Two of my friends (who were also coordinating the event) were waiting for me in the lobby. I quickly hopped out of the car, paid the meter, and rounded the street corner toward the building.

About twenty minutes later, I headed into the room where everyone was seated. It was go time. After a brief introduction by a close friend, I began. I passed around empty sheets of white printer paper to each audience member. I asked them to use the paper and a pen to finish the sentence Life is… in less than three minutes. While they labored over capturing the depth and breadth of life’s meaning onto one page in just a few minutes, I stepped to the side and quickly scribbled down my own answer in less than four seconds. Though, to be fair, I did have several months, the morning, and a car ride to figure it out.

A few minutes later, I asked for volunteers to share their papers. The responses were beautiful, profound, and amazing. I was in awe and truly blown away at the range of responses and ways they had chosen to express them, and I wasn’t the only one. The audience was, too. They cheered and applauded for each woman who shared her page. After hearing from several audience members, I returned to the front of the